


Yajellucinations

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s03e18 Teso Dos Bichos, Plot What Plot, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-05
Updated: 2006-01-05
Packaged: 2019-04-28 04:16:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: Maybe he should start being more careful.





	Yajellucinations

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

Title: Yajellucinations 

Author: mimic117 

Email: 

Rating: NC-17 cause Tali says so 

Category: V, missing scene 

Summary: Maybe he should start being more careful. 

Spoilers: Teso dos Bichos -- yeah, you heard right. Written for the Fandomonium Virtual Season of Smut challenge, season 3. 

Disclaimer: The characters belong to CC and company. The rating belongs to the MPAA. The situation belongs entirely to me because I'm not sure anyone else would claim it. 

Beta thanks: To my tireless Twinsy for being the Bitch that she is and making me think. 

Special thanks: To Obfusc8er for sending me her thoughts and freaking me out. She knows why. 

* * *

Yajellucinations  
by mimic117 

He crept closer. Silent. Stealthy. Padding carefully, ever nearer. 

He could smell her. Hot. Fragrant. Ready for him. 

Unsuspecting. 

He pounced from behind, limbs wrapped firmly around her torso to prevent any chance of escape. She struggled briefly, twisting this way and that, trying to dislodge him from her back. 

He bit her neck gently and she quieted as he worried her nape with his teeth, then soothed it with a swipe of his tongue. She hummed in her throat and wiggled her ass against him. Blood surged in his veins. He growled, her delicate neck still within his grasp -- a threat implied, even if he never intended to carry it out. 

When he stroked her flanks with his hardened length, she gasped and arched her back. He read it as an open invitation, one which he fully planned to take advantage of. 

He caressed her silky back, bending her over as he nudged her into position with his thighs. He mounted quickly, thrusting deep into her moist cleft. She lifted her head and wailed as he pumped his hips, impaling her again and again with his hard, swift strokes. 

So good. So right. They were made for this coupling, this joining, this animal sex. Over and over and over he lunged, back and forth, faster, harder, until the sensations overwhelmed his senses and he could do nothing more than roar out his pleasure as she screeched her own in reply. 

They collapsed together, still joined, satiation rumbling in his chest as she purred her contentment. 

Blackness crept over his senses. He slept. 

* * *

Mulder jerked awake with the ringing of a phone in his ears. The ringing stopped and he heard Scully murmuring nearby. When he tried to raise his head, an excruciating headache drove him flat again. 

God! What on earth had he drunk last night? He didn't remember going on a bender but that's how he felt. Dry mouth, pounding head, achy muscles, blurred vision when he finally managed to crack one eye open. 

He could see Scully pacing back and forth as she spoke softly on the phone. She was wearing only her bra and panties. He closed his eyes again. 

Terrific. He was hallucinating on top of everything else. Maybe he was coming down with something. He _knew_ he hadn't been drinking anything except coffee and water. 

Coming down sick would explain his weird dream, too. He'd dreamt that he was a cat. A big cat. Perhaps a panther. It was so vivid. He remembered the feeling of his own fur, his keen vision, the heightened olfactory senses which allowed him to smell -- 

A female. He could still recall her scent and the way his hunger rose in response. He needed to have her. And he had. He'd taken her fiercely, without consideration for anything except his own needs and desires, mounted her the way a male cat takes his mate. 

Mulder shivered. The images and sensations were still so clear. The sex had been fantastic -- primitive, raw, sensual. He'd never experienced anything like it. Too bad it was only a dream. 

A very, very realistic dream that was making the blood rush from his woozy head straight south. He _must_ be coming down sick to get turned on so easily. He'd better make sure Scully didn't catch a gander of the wood he was sporting. 

He heard her hang up the phone, then the bathroom door closed. Relieved, he rolled on his back and opened his eyes again. 

At least the room wasn't spinning. 

He looked around, confused. It was his hotel room, but he couldn't recall how he'd gotten here. Or when. Or why Scully was in it, half dressed or not. She'd answered _his_ phone, in _his_ room. What the hell was that all about? 

He rubbed his hands over his face and was brought up short by a strange odor on his fingers. Bitter. Rancid. 

What the hell? He sniffed again, cautiously. It was slightly familiar... 

Dr. Bilac's house yesterday. That was it! While Scully had been questioning Bilac, Mulder walked around, trying to get a feel for the man. He'd found a bowl of thick, yellow goop sitting out in the open and... 

Stuck his fingers in. It was cold, gelatinous, oily, slimy. He'd raised his fingers to sniff and caught a strong whiff of old socks, armpits and something dead. That should have been enough to keep him from tasting it. 

It tasted worse than it smelled. Not just nauseatingly sour, but evil. That was the only description that fit. It made his eyes water and his vision blur. He thought he would puke for a second, but he not only managed to keep his stomach down, he'd done it without catching Scully's attention. 

No way did he want her to find out. She'd give him holy hell for putting his fingers into something gooey without proper protection, let alone tasting it. And she'd be right. He'd taken an awful risk. It could have been deadly poison. Or bile. Or snot. Hell, for all he knew, it could have been oobleck. 

He was damned lucky to still be alive. Maybe he should start being more careful. Especially since he was having trouble remembering most of last night. 

Mulder clearly recalled getting into their rental car outside Bilac's house, but then the rest of the evening went fuzzy and he wouldn't bet against that yellow goo as the cause. He was pretty sure he'd showered once they got back to the hotel, but he also seemed to remember pacing a lot, his body streaming sweat one minute, teeth rattling with cold the next. He must have passed out on the bed at some point. 

And dreamt. 

His body's immediate response to the memory couldn't have picked a worse time as the bathroom door opened and Scully emerged, tucking a wrinkled blouse into her slacks. Her hair was sleep mussed and appeared to have been finger-combed. No more bra and panties, if she'd ever been dressed that way in his room and not just in his imagination. 

Between the lingering sensations from the dream and the idea of Scully in just her underwear, Mulder's imagination kicked into high gear. He turned his hips to the side under the blankets in hopes of making the sudden hump in the covers a little less obvious. 

When she bent down and picked up her shoes, he realized that she was wearing the same clothes she'd had on the day before. She glanced over at him as she straightened. 

Was she smirking? "Well look who's awake. I thought you were planning to sleep until noon." 

"What time is it?" His voice was a dry croak, scratchy in his throat. 

"Just past six-thirty. The game's afoot. Dr. Lewton is missing." 

"Missing?" Mulder wished his brain would quit replaying the dream as if it were stuck in a continuous loop. He was finding it extremely difficult to pay attention to what his partner was saying. 

She plucked her pantyhose off the dresser. Mulder looked down -- she was barefoot. "Yes, missing. As in can't be found. Nowhere to be seen. Vanished. His car is in the museum parking lot, hood up, lots of blood on the ground. But no Dr. Lewton." 

"You should have woken me when the phone rang." 

"After last night, I figured you needed the few extra minutes of sleep. It's your turn to climb out of a nice, warm bed next time, though." 

Last night? What happened last night? He wished to God he could remember _anything_ about last night! And "next time"? What did she mean by that? Next time for what? 

Scully pointed to the nightstand. "Could you hand me my suit jacket?" 

He pushed up on his elbows and turned to look. It was draped over the light. Now he _knew_ something wasn't right. His partner would never treat her clothes that way unless... No. He honestly couldn't think of ANY circumstances where she would fling them around like that. 

He unhooked the jacket from the lamp and gave it to her. That's when he noticed that he was shirtless. He usually wore a t-shirt to bed while on a case. Curiosity niggled at the back of his mind. He snuck one hand under the sheet, stroked his stomach, reached down -- 

He was naked! 

Mulder jumped when Scully grabbed his foot through the covers and shook it. "I'm going back to my room to clean up. I told them we'd be there in twenty minutes. That means you've got ten." She opened the door, then picked something up off the floor and tossed it in his face. 

His boxer shorts. 

"Get that sweet ass out of bed and into the shower, Mulder. This is no time to lounge around looking gorgeous. I'll be back in ten minutes. Move it!" She flashed him a mega-watt grin as she closed the door. 

The pounding in Mulder's head took on the panicked rhythm of his heart. 

What the hell was this? An alternate universe? Scully almost never smiled like that. They often threw quips and innuendoes back and forth, but he was usually the one who started it. Her words and attitude were playful; more so than usual. She was acting as if... 

Was she flirting with him? Tossing his underwear at him and that crack about his "sweet ass" and -- Maybe he _hadn't_ been imagining her pacing around in a bra and panties. 

Jesus. His cock was getting even harder. He _had_ to stop thinking about Scully in her underwear and get ready to leave. They still had a case to investigate. 

Mulder picked up the blankets to toss them aside and stopped in mid toss. 

The bed smelled like sex. 

He took a deep, involuntary breath and was immediately rock hard. There was no mistaking that scent. It didn't smell the same as when it was just him and his own hand on a lonely couch. This was a combination that wasn't as familiar to him, yet he remembered it from his dream. Musky, astringent, the smell of male and female coming together in passion. 

How was that possible? It _wasn't_ unless -- 

Unless he'd had sex with someone. 

Scully? Could it be... ? 

He looked around the room, locating his pants near the door, his shirt outside the bathroom, one shoe on the dresser, the other half under it. His socks were nowhere to be seen. He already knew what had happened to his boxers. 

Scully's clothes had been just as scattered. And that dream, the way he felt when he woke up, the yellow glop he'd handled at Bilac's house, Scully's suddenly intimate behavior... 

His mind whirled with the possibilities but he couldn't get them to settle long enough to work it out. 

A knock on the door startled him into dropping the blankets back over his lap. The door opened and Scully peeked around the jamb. Mulder expected annoyance, irritation, possibly outright anger at finding him still in bed. He didn't expect affectionate exasperation, but that's what he saw on her face. He blinked at her, still trying to process his thoughts. 

"Aren't you coming?" she asked, a humorous quirk tilting the corner of her mouth. 

Mulder cleared his throat. "Yeah. I'll be right there." 

Was he reading too much into her words and expressions? He couldn't come right out and ask if they'd had sex last night... could he? Was there some other way to find out if his suppositions were right or wrong? 

Scully threw a coy glance over her shoulder. Her voice drifted to him as she pulled the door shut behind her. "Better hurry... Tiger." 

Holy shit. 

* * *

**THE END**

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Title: **Yajellucinations**  
Author: mimic117  
Details: 11k  ·  NC-17  ·  Standalone  ·  01/05/06  ·   Email/Website      
Gossamer Category(Keywords): Vignette   [Sex (PWP)]     
Characters: Mulder, Scully     
SPOILERS: Post-episode: Teso dos Bichos   
SUMMARY: Maybe he should start being more careful. 


End file.
